Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Kyla - You’re still planning to leave?
I guess she deleted whatever she originally typed and replaced it with a simple question.
Dawn - It’s run its course.
More tears leak from my eyes, losing themselves in the softness of my pillow and my tangled hair, because lies are toxic, but the lies we tell ourselves are the worst of all.
Instead of another message, my phone rings. Sniffing, and swiping at my face, I consider declining the call, but I know it would only make Kyla worry more.
"Hey," I answer.
"Hey yourself." The rustle of her bed covers shifting travels down the line before she clears her throat. "Look, Dawn. I convinced myself that when we said goodbye the other day, that it was likely going to be a long time until I saw you again. I was convinced you’d see what’s in front of your face and believe it’s worth trying to hold on to. I was desperately hoping you’d begin to find an image of a future worth trying for."
"Kyla…I…"
"No, Dawn. I don’t want to hear excuses anymore. I’ve left this long enough without telling you how destructive your behavior is becoming. And I did it because I thought I was being a friend. But being a friend isn’t just about having fun. It’s about helping you through the tough times and letting you know when you’re wrong. When you got that tattoo, I thought it was a phase. All the crazy things you’ve done recently…I just put them down to something you’d outgrow. None of it really mattered until it started hurting other people…until it started hurting you."
"They understand, Kyla. They know I’m only here temporarily. They don’t really want me to stay. Everything between us is based on this being a vacation fling."
"Except it isn’t, is it? That’s just what you’re telling yourself, and I don’t get it. You’ve stumbled into something so awesome that everyone around you can see, but you seem intent to ignore. You’re hurting yourself, honey, and I understand. And what about your dad? I get you don’t want to deal with finding out the results, but this is hurting him, too." She clears her throat, and the background rustling sounds as though she’s switching ears. "Please listen to me because you’re not tying loose ends by leaving. You’re slashing at people’s hearts. People who love you."
"You’ve got it wrong," I say, wiping at more tears, wishing I’d just let Kyla’s call go to voicemail.
"I haven’t. You just don’t want to hear what I’m saying. And I get it. It’s easier to run than to face something massive. But you’re not a coward, Dawn. You’re a fighter. You always have been. So please, listen to me. It’s time. It’s time to deal with the past once and for all so you can plan a future that you want to live."
We’re both silent for a few seconds that feel like hours because there is never space in our conversations. We’ve been talking nonstop since kindergarten.
"I love you," she whispers. "I can’t watch you lose yourself anymore without saying something."
"I love you too," I whisper back.
"Think about what I said, and we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
When we hang up, I turn my face into my pillow so that my crying is muffled, not because I’m worried that anyone else will hear, but because I don’t want to listen to myself.
There are moments in our lives that feel big and unwieldy. Moments that make our hearts skitter and our palms sweaty because we’re just not ready to face them.
Will I ever feel ready, or do I have to do what Logan and Kyla are urging me to do? Face into the fear. Acknowledge the truth and find a way to live in the present that doesn’t involve running.
Am I strong enough?
I really don’t know.
Flip a coin, Mom’s voice whispers. When I was little, and I couldn’t make a decision, it was her go-to solution. Flip the coin and whatever it lands on, you’ll understand your true feelings. Happiness and disappointment sit on either side of the little metal disk. This is too big a decision to decide in such a flippant way, but I can either lie here awake all night, worrying about what to do, or I find a way forward, one way or the other.
I find a coin in my purse, and turn it over and over, remembering how Mom would hand me a quarter, and it would feel like a key that would open a new door. Heads, I’ll call Dr. Castor. And tails? I guess I’m free to decide what that will mean.
Tossing it up feels like the strangest release, and when I slap it onto the back of my hand, my heart skips a beat. Everything rides on this little piece of metal.
A new path will open before me if I can just find the courage to lift my hand.